I complain that the years fly past, but then I look in a mirror and see that very few of them actually got past.

Dancing is moving to the music without stepping on anyone's toes, pretty much the same as life.

Does a rose exist that I might behold it? Or do I exist that a rose might be beheld?

I complain that the years fly past, but then I look in a mirror and see that very few of them actually got past.

Most of us don't need a psychiatric therapist as much as a friend to be silly with.

There is in every artist's studio a scrap heap of discarded works in which the artist's discipline prevailed against his imagination.

Before you pledge your undying love to someone, make them promise they won't die.